In a world where innocents are mowed down while dancing, and black fathers and sons are senselessly murdered by peace officers, and peace officers are senselessly murdered by military veterans, and voters roiling with toxic resentments threaten to put a hollow shell of a human in charge of the most powerful nation on Earth — well, in that world, sometimes the only thing that makes sense is to wander the streets for hours in search of imaginary cartoon animals.
At least, that’s why I began playingPokémon Go with my son Dash last week: to escape the oppressive burden of reality by diving into the sanctuary of my cell-phone screen and hunting harmless pixel beasties. Plus, Dash told me one of the goals of Pokémon is to help your characters “evolve” — which sounds so civilized and promising.
I’m spending the week with three charming gentlemen who regale me with tales of their epic world travels. They describe the sheep on Scotland’s Isle of Skye, the vegetarian sharks in Belize, the sugar in Costa Rica, and the beaches in Cannes.
From grown men, it might be braggy, but because these are my nephews — a 14-year-old and twin 10-year-olds — it’s sort of astonishing.